Black Rose
by My Quiet Riot
Summary: Five girls from West Heights High-school have been brutally murdered this week. Although they were all very physically different, one thing was clearly the same: each girl had a single black rose placed in their lifeless hand. Who could this be, and what is their motive? Rated T for minor gore and language.
1. Chapter 1: Recognition

**Hello again, everyone. C: After a few one-shots, I wanted to start another fanfic. So, here's the first chapter. I'm sorry this chapter is so boring, but I like describing & establishing the case before going on. I promise the next chapters will be better; I have some great action planned for this! Anyways, I would love it if you would review & tell me what you think; I appreciate all of them. Thanks, & enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter One - Recognition

Mal Fallon sat at his desk in the police bullpen, idly rotating between sipping coffee and filling out paperwork for the current case they were on. It was beginning to get out of hand- both the paperwork, and the case. He heard footsteps approaching his desk, and glanced up to meet the eyes of his partner, Natara Williams. She looked a little tense, like she had bad news; she also held a manila folder, packed full with papers.

"Hey," Mal said, setting down his pen. "Is everything okay?"

Natara pursed her lips, not wanting to be the carrier of more bad news. Especially for this particular case; it was getting really bad.

"Don't tell me," Mal muttered with a groan. "Another one?"

"The fifth one this week," she replied grimly.

"Black rose?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Natara just nodded in response, biting her lower lip. She opened the folder she was holding, taking out a few pictures and extending them to Mal.

He took them, dreading what he'd see. He glanced over the pictures of the crime scene, showing a bloodied body of a young girl, no older than 20. Like the other three victims so far, the same object was placed in her tattered hand: a single black rose.

"Victim?" he asked, handing the pictures back to Natara.

"Sophie Chandler," she said, reading off the victim's stats. "She was 18, and a senior at West Heights High school. Dark brown hair, brown eyes, 5'8. She was last seen by her mother, Audrey Chandler, at about 8:31 pm. Sophie drove back to the school to retrieve a textbook she forgot, and never came home. Her body was found behind the school, shoved behind the dumpsters. The janitor found her while taking out the trash around 9:57 pm. She had multiple stab wounds, and the killer must have hit a major artery- there was an ungodly amount of blood."

"Oh, God," he muttered, leaning back in his chair. "All high school students, from the same high school. Who the hell does that stuff? This is getting way out of hand, Nat; we need to get this guy."

"I know," Natara said, leaning her hands against his desk and sighing. "But every single time, he has somehow gotten away, leaving very little evidence behind."

"Is there some other connection between the five victims, other than the fact that they're all female high school-ers?"

Natara pulled out three more papers, scanning their physical stats.

"Well, the first victim, Allison Dardyn, was about the same height as Sophie, but she had blonde hair and sea-green eyes. She was a senior, as well. The second, Evelyn Willows, was nothing like the other Allison or Sophie; she was 5'2, auburn hair, blue eyes, and a freshman. Gianna Mueller, the third, was a little like Evelyn- 5'4, strawberry-blonde hair, and light blue eyes- but Gianna was a sophomore."

"They all have lighter-colored hair so far," Mal observed, taking the photos Natara handed him. He set them down on his desk, examining them.

"The first four do, yes," Natara said, shuffling around some papers. "But the one before Sophie... doesn't make sense to me. She's completely different from the others: Ruby Ness was a sophomore, and 5'9, which is tall for a 16-year-old. She had black hair, and it was cut shoulder-length; the others had long hair. She had gray eyes, too, which is fairly uncommon, and wore glasses."

Mal sat taking this information in, trying to lace a connection- even the smallest one- between the five girls.

"It's obviously not physical," Mal concluded after a few moments of thought. "I don't think we can really draw any more conclusions as of yet. Can we get to the crime scene?"

* * *

Half an hour later, Mal and Natara arrived at West Heights High. They drove around the school to the back parking lot, where staff and janitors parked. They got out and immediately saw the all-too-familiar yellow crime scene tape surrounding the vicinity of the dumpsters. Several squad cars were parked around the lot, and one of the officers, who looked younger, was talking to who Mal presumed to be the janitor.

Mal walked up to another officer, who was writing something on a clipboard. Natara followed closely behind, keeping pace with Mal's long strides. The officer looked up as they approached and greeted them.

"You are Detective Fallon and Special Agent Williams, I assume?" questioned the officer, setting his clipboard on the hood of his police car.

"That's us," Mal said, extending his hand towards the officer, shaking his hand.

"Pleased to meet you," Natara added politely, extending her hand as well.

"Great to meet you both," the officer replied. "I am Officer Mortenson, and over there," he said, indicating the officer talking to the janitor, "Is my assistant, Officer Bowden."

"May we speak with the janitor?" Natara asked, motioning towards the taped-off area.

"Of course, follow me." They nodded, and walked towards the crime scene. The officer lead, relaying the information they were informed of earlier.

"Bowden," Officer Mortenson called as they approached, "This is Detective Mal Fallon and Special Agent Natara Williams of the FBI. They would like to speak to Janitor Morrison. "

"Sorry if we're disturbing you," Mal added, eyeing the clipboard in Officer Bowden's hands.

"It's not a problem," assured Officer Bowden. "I'm almost finished." He glanced up and his gaze drifted to Natara. She looked vaguely familiar.

"I'm sorry," Bowden said, turning to Natara and looking almost sheepish, "But do I know you from some where? You look kind of familiar..."

Natara was momentarily startled by the slight recognition, but recovered quickly. "I, um, I'm not sure..."

"Sorry to ask, but did you attend Briarwood High?"


	2. Chapter 2: New Leads

**Hello! After the slightly-boring first chapter, I'm definitely more pleased with this one. It's a bit long, but somehow, I don't think you guys will mind. C: Thank you so much for those who reviewed; I appreciate them all, & I reply privately. Please tell me what you think of this chapter? Constructive criticism is always welcome, too; I'd love to know how I could improve. Thanks again, & enjoy! :D**

* * *

"I... I actually did, yes..." Natara dug into her long-term memory, trying to recall who this man was. Suddenly, something clicked, and vague realization struck.

"Wait, are you... Drew? Drew Bowden?"

"That's me," he replied, clearing his throat sheepishly. "Natara?"

She nodded in disbelief, suddenly remembering how she knew him.

Drew Bowden had been two years older than Natara, and he was in her AP Forensics class her sophomore year. It was a junior and senior-level course, but Natara had taken a higher level science course, as she proved to be exceptionally proficient at it. Drew would constantly alternate between making fun of her for being so smart and 'nerdy', and cheating off of her. She always tried her best to shield her papers, but he always had a way of seeing her answers, despite her efforts to conceal them. He was a sneaky charmer, too, and nearly never got caught. When he did, he somehow charmed his way out of detention, making himself look innocent and- yes, she'd admit it- cute. Natara herself was always too timid to inform the teacher of Drew's tendencies, and didn't really care to have a 'tattle-tale' reputation. Looking back, she wished she would of had the courage to bring it to someone's attention, but there was no use fretting over it now; that was years ago.

"I... wow. I didn't think I'd be seeing you again," she replied clumsily, suddenly uncomfortable. She distinctly remembered being secretly relieved when he graduated that spring. "As I recall, you-"

"Yes, I know," he interrupted quickly, correctly guessing what Natara was about to bring to immediate attention. "I, uh... sorry about that. All of it, really. That was... I was kind of an idiot back then. I really am sorry," he added earnestly, genuinely looking sorry.

"It's okay," Natara said dismissively after an awkward laugh. There was no use holding a grudge; he'd clearly picked up his act. "It's in the past," she added with a smile.

He nodded gratefully, looking back down at his clipboard. He quickly stepped aside so they could talk to Janitor Morrison. Mal shot Natara a questioning glance, but she gave him an I'll-tell-you-later look, and turned to the janitor.

"Mr. Morrison," Natara greeted politely, firmly shaking his hand. "Good to meet you."

Mr. Morrison looked to be in his mid-50's, and what little hair he did possess was graying. Despite his age, he was surprisingly trim, and stood a couple inches taller than Natara. He looked a little shaken-up; quite understandably so.

"You as well, Special Agent, Detective," he said nervously. "May I, uh, be of any assistance?"

"Yes," Mal replied, shaking Mr. Morrison's hand as well. "We just have a few quick questions for you; we won't be long." Mal took Mr. Morrison's nod as consent, and continued.

"Did you see or hear anything unusual last night, besides Sophie's body of course?"

Mr. Morrison thought for a moment, before shaking his head. "Aside from the body," he said with a slight shiver, "I don't recall anything out of place. I was inside most of the evening, though, aside from bringing the trash out here... so even if something unusual did happen, I unfortunately wouldn't have seen or heard it."

Mal continued asking Mr. Morrison several more questions, while Natara politely excused herself to go examine the crime scene. Even from over 30 feet away, she could see an excessive amount of blood, and winced despite seeing the pictures earlier that morning.

Sophie's body lay in the middle of a large pool of crimson blood. Her light pink t-shirt was ragged and stained with blood. She had multiple stab wounds in her chest and stomach, which soaked through the thin cloth of her shirt. One of her hands had a minor slice in her palm, indicating that she may have clutched or grabbed at the knife used to so cruelly end her life.

Natara bent down to have a closer look, noticing the odd way Sophie's arm- the one that held the black rose- was twisted. Natara wasn't a doctor, but it definitely looked broken to her; nobody's arm twisted like that naturally. Granted that most serial killers don't typically break their victim's bones after they're already dead, she took it as a sign of a struggle.

Natara also noticed the wound in Sophie's stomach was larger- and considerably bloodier- than just a quick jab or two with a knife. She observed with disgust that the knife must have been twisted several times while it was in her; most likely while she was still alive.

After several minutes, Mal walked over and joined Natara, who was crouching by Sophie's body. He too winced slightly at the gore.

"Find anything?" he asked, trying to sound casual, despite the fact that they were standing over an excessively bloodied body of a young teen.

Natara nodded, relaying her observations of the broken arm and stomach wound.

"Maybe Sophie tried to run, so the killer broke her arm to stop her. Or she could've just fallen and landed in such a way as to snap the bone. A lot of things could have happened, really."

"It's not a whole lot to go off of," Mal said, examing Sophie's broken and bruised arm. "But it's definitely something. As for the knife-in-the-stomach issue," he said, shuddering slightly, "Great work; I definitely wouldn't have looked that closely at... that. That is one hell of an ungodly wound."

Natara couldn't resist the smile that crept across her face, despite their current location. She laughed mildly, nodding in agreement.

They turned when they heard footsteps behind them. Officer Mortenson walked up, holding a small, beige-colored purse in his hand.

"This was found in Sophie's possession when her body was found. If any of its contents would be useful, you are free to take it to your lab for closer examination."

Natara stood and thanked him, taking the purse. She knelt back down to where Mal still crouched, examining the other stab wounds. He turned when Natara sat down again.

She pulled the contents out, setting the items on the warm pavement in between herself and Mal.

"Compact mirror... Cell phone... Wallet... Chapstick... School schedule... Make-up... Er, female neccessities... Just the normal stuff."

"Her wallet's empty," Mal said, opening it. "If she had any credit cards or anything, those are gone, and so is any cash she was carrying. Her license and library card are in here, but that doesn't really help us. Either she just didn't carry any cash at all, or whoever killed her also stole her money."

"The latter seems more likely," Natara commented, picking up Sophie's phone. She turned it on, searching for anything useful. She glanced at Sophie's latest text, from somebody with the contact name of "Nolan3". Natara rolled her eyes at the heart at the end, inferring that this 'Nolan' person was Sophie's boyfriend. Maybe Nolan could give them some useful piece of information.

She wondered briefly why the killer wouldn't take Sophie's phone as well, before realizing it had a tracking device built into it. The killer definitely wasn't stupid; that much was certain.

Natara scrolled down to a text from four days ago, from the contact name of "Allison D(:", presumably the same Allison who was murdered a few days before Sophie. She opened the messages, silently reading them over.

_Allison - 5:47 pm: hey soph, i swore i saw some guy creeping around the side of the school just now! it wasn't anyone that goes here. creepy rite?_

_Sophie - 5:50 pm: ahh weird haha! have you seen him before? and did your practice run late or something? it's almost 6! unless you just really love school.._

_Allison - 5:52 pm: nope, i've never seen him in my life! he was wearing all black, and he was holding something too. i have no idea what it was, tho. he ran around to the back of the school when he noticed that i saw him. and shut up lol, our coach is crazy! he ran us almost an hour late. ughh!_

_Sophie - 5:56 pm: alright, that's just plain creepy. you should get outta there, Al. ya never know, he could be a rapist or killer or something ahaha! and i'm so glad i chose volleyball over soccer! our coach is def better, you shoulda played!_

_Allison - 5:59 pm: very funny, soph. i doubt he's gunna kill me lol. and plus, then i'll just kick a soccer ball at him right? haha! and nah, you kno how much i love soccer! and plus you also i suck at vball. nice try tho loser(;_

_Sophie - 6:03 pm: hm well either way, you should get outta there and get yo' ass over to my house. i'm totally stuck on my trig homework! and since your such a math nerd..._

_Allison - 6:06 pm: haha shut up! at least i'm not a history nerd like you! ah hell, i left my water bottle on the field. i'm gunna go get it, so see ya in 20?_

_Sophie - 6:07 pm: hey now! i'm not a science nerd! sounds good, you'd better get here soon, i'm like failing here lol!_

_Allison - 6:11 pm: whatever, science nerd(; i gtg cuz i'm about to drive, but i'll be at your place in like 15 ok?_

_Sophie - 6:12 pm: potassium!(;_

_Allison - 6:13 pm: good one, nerdo. i'm out!_

Natara stifled a slight laugh at the potassium joke, then handed the phone to Mal.

"Take a look at these," she said, quickly recovering. "This explains a lot about Allison's death; all of them, really."

Mal took the phone and read the texts, silently mulling over the information.

"Potassium?" he asked, confused.

"Science joke," she muttered sheepishly. "The chemical symbol for potassium is 'K', so she was essentially saying 'okay'."

"Science nerd," Mal accused lightly, laughing at Natara's playful scowl.

"Don't start with me!" she warned jokingly, laughing as well. "Anyways," she said, back to business, "This is _definitely_useful information."

"This proves that they did for sure know each other, and Sophie talked to Allison just minutes before Allison's murder, which was approximately 6:21 pm."

"And Allison said she saw the man wearing all black, which was a detail reported by a witness of Evelyn's murder. Allison also said she noticed the man carrying something, which was more than likely the knife he used to kill all five girls with."

"Wow, I'm glad we decided to come down here; we have some very interesting leads. Once again, nice work." He flashed a smile at Natara, playfully nudging her in the arm. Natara smiled back and felt her cheeks flush slightly. She quickly turned her head back to the contents of the purse, hoping Mal hadn't noticed.

"Well, we should probably get this stuff back to Kai at the lab. Maybe he can identify if there are any finger prints on the wallet, aside from Sophie's. Unlikely, considering how careful this guy has been, but it's a possibility."

"I agree. Let's go."

* * *

**As I said before, I'm happier with the outcome of this chapter, versus the first one. Also, the part where Allison & Sophie were texting, I purposely spelt some things incorrectly, as most high school-ers do not have the best texting etiquette. xD Please review? Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3: Getting Personal

**Hi! So, here is the next chapter! I'm sorry it's so short, but I promise I'll make it up to you. C: A little plot twist here. As always, I appreciate your reviews so much! Tell me what you think? C: ENJOY!**

* * *

Half an hour later, Mal and Natara arrived back at the precinct. They walked down to the lab in silence, tense at what they had found.

Kai stood peering into a microscope, stopping briefly to scrawl something in his notebook before turning back to whatever he was viewing. Amy, their lab technician, sat at a computer across the room, typing away at something or other.

"Amy, Kai," Mal greeted, clearing his throat to grab their attention. Both heads snapped up, startled.

"Oh, hey! Find anything else?" Amy asked, standing from her seat at the computer.

"Not a lot, but we did find some intriguing information."

Mal and Natara relayed the information they had gathered regarding Sophie's arm, her stab wounds, and the texts they had found on Sophie's phone, linking it to what they had found in the prior murders.

This case even toned Kai himself down a notch or two, as he began to realize just how serious this particular case was, and how each wasted minute put another girl's life in more immediate danger.

"I'll get everything processed as soon as I can," Kai promised sincerely, starting to work right away.

"Wow," Mal commented as they walked back up the steps to the main bullpen, "This case even has Kai settled down."

"I know," Natara said, sighing. "Five high-school girls being murdered in one week is putting everyone on edge, the public included. This guy needs to be stopped. Immediately."

After an hour or so of idle paperwork and multiple trips to the coffee-maker, Kai finally immerged from the lab, looking a bit discouraged.

"Did you find anything?" Natara asked hopefully, though seriously doubting the outcome of anything useful.

"I'm afraid not," Kai said, dismayed. "Whoever this sociopath is, he's no idiot. He's covered up his prints exceedingly well, and has left little-to-no other evidence."

Mal sighed, briefly rubbing his temples. "Great," he muttered sarcastically, more to himself than Kai or Natara.

"But the theories you developed do sound very promising. That's definitely some form of a lead," Kai added with a slight smile, trying to sound encouraging despite the bad news.

Natara smiled lightly at Kai's encouragement. So maybe he could separate funny from serious at times.

"Well, thanks for checking it out, Kai," Mal said sincerely, reaching for his coffee.

"Of course!" Kai replied somewhat-cheerfully, before turning and retreating back into the lab.

* * *

An hour of paperwork later, Maria Yeong walked out of her office, looking grim.

"Mal, Natara," she announced as they turned to face her. "There's not a lot more we can do about this case for the time being, until more advanced tests are done, and we receive Sophie's autopsy report. Her cause of death does seem very evident already, but there is a slight chance it could reveal something. But for the time being, I-"

Maria was cut short by Kai running up the stairs and bursting through the door, sheer horror and alarm written all over his face.

Before anyone could say anything, Kai burst out, "Mal! Natara! Downstairs, now! It's an emergency, and my usual humor aside, I'm literally being one-hundred percent serious right now. There's been another victim of the black rose, and it's getting personal."

Alarmed at Kai's seriousness and the gut-wrenching news, they all jumped up and followed Kai, who was running down the stairs. They rushed into the lab, where Amy sat on the floor, head in her hands, sobbing.

"Amy!" Natara exclaimed, alarmed and worried. "Amy, what's wrong?" She briskly walked over and knelt next to Amy, placing her hand on Amy's back.

Her question was met with several more sobs, before Amy looked up, her eyes filled with painful, sorrowful tears.

"Amy, please talk to me. Tell me what's wrong," she soothed, gently rubbing Amy's back.

"Nat, it... the victim was... She..." Amy choked on her words, unable to catch her breath. She abruptly looked down towards her lap, so her hair hid her face. Natara reached out and gently tucked the hair behind her ear so she could see Amy's face.

"The victim was who?" Natara urged softly, still rubbing Amy's back comfortingly.

"It was my sister," Amy choked out.


	4. Chapter 4: Coming Undone

**Hey again! Chapter Four is here. (: I know I said this one would be longer, but there are only so many places I can break for a new chapter. Chapter Five will be longer; it's partly already written, & it's already longer than this one. Thanks so much for all the reviews! Also, Amy's sister is my original character, as I'm fairly certain she doesn't have siblings; not that are revealed at this time, anyways. & as a side note, the month of August is going to be completely packed-full busy for me; I have volleyball try-outs next week, which is when the season starts. & once school starts, the combination of school & volleyball will completely wipe out any extra time. So I'm trying to get this fanfic written quickly, but still well. My writing will be slowing down after this one, unfortunately, as my time is running low. Hopefully you enjoy it, & please tell me what you think! (:**

* * *

A million thoughts raced through Natara's mind the second the word 'sister' came out of Amy's mouth.**  
**

"I... what? You have... you had a sister, Amy? And she... went to West Heights?" Natara stuttered unskillfully, grasping wildly for the right words. She glanced helplessly over at Mal and Captain Yeong for help, but they both stood silently and wide-eyed, their jaws about dropped to the cold lab floor. Mal opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. _Great,_ Natara thought to herself weakly, _I'm on my own with this one_.

"Yes," Amy replied shakily, fighting to steady her breathing. "She is... was, a senior." Amy reached into her bag that was on the floor next to her and pulled out a picture. She handed it to Natara, her hand shaking.

"What was her name?" Natara asked quietly, taking the picture.

"V-Violet." Amy stammered, taking deep breaths in and out.

Natara looked down at the picture in her hand, at which she presumed to be Violet. It looked professionally-taken and heavily-edited; probably a senior picture. She looked just like a teenage-version of Amy. She was very pretty, and had a small build, much like Amy. Violet stood in the middle of train tracks that went on for as far as the picture could show. She wore a yellow sundress with cowboy boots, and her dark hair fell down her back in perfect curls. She stood with her left hand on her hip, and the other lightheartedly twisting a lock of hair around her finger. She smiled broadly, showing perfect teeth. She wasn't quite looking directly at the camera, but at someplace unknown just beyond it. Natara concluded such was probably done solely for artistic purposes. Despite the heavy editing, though, Natara could tell Violet had been stunning, and probably could have been a model.

"Wow," was all she finally said, unable to say anything else. "She's gorgeous."

"I know," Amy mumbled, fresh tears falling from her eyes again. "She... she wanted to be a model. Those pictures were so much fun for her; more fun than she let on to our mom. I have never seen somebody so happy to be getting their picture taken."

"I'm sorry, Amy," was all she could think to say.

Amy nodded and made a feeble attempt to stand, before collapsing, defeated, against Natara in tears again.

Natara suppressed a surprised grunt, and, seeing as there really wasn't much else she could do, wrapped an arm around Amy and let her cry. She glanced over at Mal and Captain Yeong again, not really knowing what to do; comforting others was not her strong-suit. Mal stood leaning against a cabinet, awkwardly shifting his gaze aimlessly around the room. Captain Yeong looked sadly at Amy, pursing her lips.

Suddenly, anger began to flood Natara, and she was abruptly driven by the urge to kick that killer's ass. How the hell could someone have the nerve to walk around some high school campus and kill young girls? They all had their whole lives ahead of them, with hopes and dreams for their futures, much like Violet. They had family and friends and priorities. But that was all taken away from them in an instant, by some maniac with a knife.

"Amy," Natara said, a little more forcefully than she had planned. Apparently speaking wasn't her forte right now, either.

Amy's head quickly shot up at the forceful sternness of Natara's voice. She shifted her position a little so she was facing Natara.

"Amy," she said again less forcefully, looking straight into her eyes. "We are going to get this guy."

"Thank you," Amy replied, almost inaudibly. Natara stood and offered a hand to Amy, who took it and pulled herself up. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and forced a small smile.

"Mal," Natara called, turning towards him with a serious expression. "We are getting the hell over to West Heights, right now."


	5. Chapter 5: Violet

**Yes, I am updating for the second time today. C: & YES, this is also short. I know, I know, I'm sorry. xD But I want to break up the last few chapters, just to build some suspense. C: Thanks so much for all the reviews! :D Anyways, tell me what you think!**

* * *

Mal and Natara hopped in Mal's car, and twenty minutes later, careened into the West Heights parking lot. They jumped out of the car, instantly meeting the crisp night air. Once again, the all-too-familiar yellow tape fenced off the crime scene, and even from the car, they could see the bloody lump on the ground, which was Violet. They saw Officer Mortenson, whom was at Sophie's crime scene as well, standing just outside the tape and talking to another officer. As they approached, Natara heard the tail-end of their conversation.

"Where's your assistant this evening?" the other officer asked.

"He called in sick this morning; said he had a bad case of the stomach flu," replied Mr. Mortenson conclusively.

"That's too bad," the other officer replied, only half-listening. Mr. Mortenson looked up and saw Mal and Natara standing silently behind the other officer, shifting their gazes awkwardly.

"Detective Fallon, Special Agent Williams."

"Officer Mortenson," Mal greeted. Natara nodded with a polite smile.

"The victim," Natara said, motioning towards the bloodied body, "Was our lab technician's sister." she finished grimly.

Officer Mortenson stood in shock for a moment before hastily collecting himself. "I... Oh, God."

"That's about all we can say," muttered Mal, more to himself than anyone else.

"Go ahead and check out the crime scene, then,"

They nodded thanks and walked past him towards the taped-off area just outside the main doors to the school. Violet's body was partially on the concrete and partially on the grass, both stained with crimson underneath her.

"Ah, hell," Mal muttered as they knelt beside Violet's body. She was stabbed as the other victims were, as well as the notorious black rose, placed in Violet's lifeless hand. She only had two stab wounds, however unlike Sophie and the others. One was in her side, and the other was straight in the heart. Natara guessed the killer missed and stabbed her in the side, before the deadly weapon met its target in Violet's heart. Officer Mortenson walked up and lightly tapped Natara on the shoulder.

"Violet wasn't carrying a purse at her time of death," Officer Mortenson stated quietly. "But she did have a small bag." Mortenson handed Natara a small, peach-colored clutch. A heart-shaped charm with the letter _V_ hung off of the zipper. Violet's phone was contained inside of it, as well as a half-used compact of foundation, a couple of receipts, bobby pins, and an empty wallet. Once again, Violet's license, as well as her student ID card still remained in their proper slots, completely untouched.

Natara picked up the phone and fumbled with it for a moment before sliding it open, powering it on. She checked Violet's texts, but found nothing of relevance. She then noticed something flashing in the top left-hand corner of the screen. _(1) new voicemail!_ flashed over and over, begging to be answered. She hesitated only a moment, before tapping the flashing voicemail icon and holding the phone to her ear.

_Violet, this is your mother. Could you please swing by the grocery store and pick up some milk on your way home from soccer? We're nearly out. Thanks, honey. I love you!_

The voicemail from Violet's mother had been sent at 7:31 pm, and Natara silently concluded that Violet must have been dead by that point already, considering she hadn't answered, despite the fact her phone had been with her.

Natara turned to tell Mal something, but was cut off by a young girl's shrill, terrified scream piercing through the night, that was abruptly cut off, as if muffled suddenly. A harsh, blatant scream, filled with terror and pain.


	6. Chapter 6: Scream Chase

**Whelp, here's Chapter Six, guys. Hopefully you've been enjoying the last several chapters. I seriously appreciate all of your reviews so much! As promised in prior updates, this chapter is longer. C: I'm pretty happy with how this chapter turned out, so I would love it if you'd tell me what you think. (: Thanks again, & enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Six - Scream Chase

Natara and Mal bolted up immediately and drew their guns, sprinting in the general direction of the scream. They raced around the corner of the building, with the other officers keeping pace behind them. The cold pavement ahead of them was illuminated by floodlights on top of high metal posts. Up ahead, a figure lay on the ground, clutching its side and crying. About 30 yards ahead of the figure on the ground, another figure sprinted away from them. As they approached the person on the ground, Natara glanced over quickly, slowing her pace slightly, just to make sure someone would stop to help her.

The person on the ground was another girl, looking to be no older than 17. She was slumped against a wall, clutching her side, which was bleeding through her shaking hands. She was crying, and blood trickled from several cuts on her face. Natara was moving too quickly to make out any more of the girl's features. Several police officers who were previously running behind them stopped and knelt by the girl.

Natara quickened her pace again, catching up with Mal. They shot ahead of the rest of the group, gaining on whoever it was that ran ahead of them. They were still a good 20-or-so yards behind the running figure, but regardless of the distance, Mal was able to make out the glint of something long, shiny and metal in the person's hand.

"He's got a knife," Mal gasped quickly, wanting to conserve his energy. Natara exhaled a quick 'okay' in acknowledgement of Mal's comment, sprinting even faster.

The person running ahead of them was admittedly fast, but nevertheless, Mal and Natara were still advancing on him; they were specifically trained for this type of thing, after all.

The figure took a sharp left, and Mal shot ahead, pushing to catch up to the guy. Natara ran several paces behind, struggling a bit to keep up with Mal's long strides. Seconds later, they took the same corner the man had taken. They screeched around the building again, narrowly missing another floodlight pole, just in time to see the runner- who was clothed in all black, with a black ski mask covering his face- disappear behind a door that had been propped open with a chair. Natara caught up with Mal as he hurdled over the chair, landing in a gymnasium filled with volleyball players. The team nearest to the door they had just burst in wore blue uniforms, and stood with surprised expressions. The other team was in gold, and wore the same taken-aback expressions.

The gymnasium lights were blinding for a few seconds, and Mal blinked rapidly, trying to force his eyes to get used to the light. Natara ran in a couple seconds later, breathing hard.

The man dressed in black ran ahead of them still, weaving in and out of the shocked players. A few of them let out shrieks as they caught sight of the knife, scampering off the court.

Just as they reached the middle of the court, a volleyball whizzed past Mal's head, narrowly missing him as he dodged out of the way. Before he had time to turn and warn Natara, it hit her hard in her head and bounce back into the net. She yelped and slowed a bit, motioning for Mal to keep going. A girl at the other end of the court, who was presumably serving at the time, wore a shocked expression on her face. Natara started sprinting again, wanting to catch up to Mal. The girl who was serving yelled a confused 'sorry', but Natara didn't have time to do anything more than glance over quickly and nod, acknowledging her apology briefly, before darting after Mal out of the gym.

She quickly caught up to Mal as he careened around another corner, nearly running into the wall as he made the turn. The guy ahead of them was slowing down a little, clearly beginning to tire. They ran after the man as he turned sharply right, into a large science lab. A lady, whom Natara inferred was the science teacher, sat at her desk on the other end of the room, marking a large stack of papers with red pen, humming quietly to herself. Her head whipped up when the man in black ran in, and, noticing the knife in his gloved hand, let out a slight wide-eyed screech before diving underneath her desk. A couple of the officers running behind them stopped breathlessly to converse with the teacher, leaving only Mal, Natara, and two other officers still pursuing the guy.

The man with the knife pushed down the chairs that had been turned upside down on the desktops, sending them clamoring to the floor, right into Mal and Natara's path, hoping to slow them down a bit. Mal easily jumped over the falling chairs, shoving a desk out of the way so Natara could run through without having to jump the chairs. Across the room, the man had thrust open a window and jumped out, landing ineptly, but on both feet. Natara reached the window seconds after, her small physique easily sliding through the half-open window, as she landed gracefully on the grass beneath. Mal followed close behind, shoving the window open farther so he could fit his muscular frame through the opening. He landed squarely on the ground, immediately sprinting to catch up to Natara, who ran several yards ahead.

The guy running ahead of them was only about 15 yards away now. Mal and Natara pushed to keep up, beginning to become tired themselves. They were now running across a football field. A large wooded area lay beyond the field, which they suspected the man was headed towards. The two other officers kept surprisingly good pace with Mal and Natara as they crossed the field and approached the woods. The wooded area ahead of them was dark; the only light seeping into the thick trees came from the field's stadium-like lighting. The light only held for 20-or-so yards into the trees, but it was enough for the officers running behind Mal and Natara to yank out their flashlights. The flashlight beams illuminated the pathway ahead of them once the stadium lights faded away, which would have otherwise left them in complete darkness. Since the man ahead of them had no source of light, he slowed and stumbled blindly along, allowing Mal and Natara to gain ground on him.

They were now only 10 yards behind him, and quickly approaching the end of the woods. As the woods faded out to just grass behind them, they now approached another school building, presumably the middle school of West Heights.

"Stop in the name of the law!" Mal yelled once they were within earshot. The guy glanced back momentarily but didn't slow down, quickly turning back to continue his flee. Mal called out warnings a few more times, before pulling out his gun and sending a warning bullet whizzing several feet past the guy's head. The guy sped up, racing around the side of the building towards the dumpsters. The door near the dumpsters was held open with a doorstop; several full trash bags lay outside the door, and several janitors were bustling around in a storage shed off to the side. He ran through it, careening around a corner and turning into a hallway.

Mal and Natara screeched around the same corner seconds later, following hot on the trail of the fleeing man, who was still brandishing the long, silver knife. They followed him into a dimly-lit library; long book-shelves lined three walls, filled with books of all types, and a row of desktop computers lined the other. Even more book-shelves snaked throughout the room, with circle-shaped tables scattered between shelves.

The guy running ahead of them slowed suddenly, whipping around and shoving over a book-shelf, heaving tired breaths in and out, before turning and running again. The book-shelf toppled over, sending a rain of books down on them. Mal shoved Natara out of the way as the heavy wooden shelf came crashing down. She stumbled from the shove, breathing a quick 'thanks' to Mal before jumping up again. The two officers behind swerved out of the way just in time, effectively dodging most of the flying books.

By the time Mal and Natara recovered from the books, the guy had shoved over several more book-shelves, and chairs lay strewn throughout the room, scattered messily on the gray carpet.

Mal and Natara looked up in time to see him disappear through a door on the other end of the room, leading to who-knows-where.


	7. Chapter 7: Knife

**Hello! So, here is Chapter Seven. Thank you guys so much for all the reviews! 24, eek! :D Anyways, I've already finished writing most of the story, so I'll be posting it in increments. Rumor has it, that there is a little Maltara fluff at the end. C; Whelp, I'd love to hear some feedback of how you like this chapter; a little bit of a plot twist. ENJOY! C:**

* * *

Chapter Seven - Knife

"Oh, hell no!" Mal yelled, scrambling up and breaking into a run again. "There is no way in _hell_ you are getting away again!" Natara clambered up as well, following Mal into the room the man had run into. The room was dark, so Mal slid along the wall, groping for a light switch. The single light bulb hanging from the musty ceiling flickered on, revealing an average-sized, windowless room. Dusty boxes and old desks were stacked everywhere, and cobwebs were spun in the corners. It was a storage room of some sort.

"Well," Natara acknowledged, thinking out loud, "There's no way he could have gotten out of here... which means he's in here somewhere."

Mal nodded, and turned away from Natara to survey the room, gun drawn. After a few minutes, Mal asked, "Find anything, Nat?"

"Mal..." came Natara's soft voice from behind him. He turned around to find that the masked man had grabbed Natara roughly by the arms, pinning them behind her back; the long knife blade was pressed against her throat. She tried to struggle, but the man just pushed the knife tighter to her skin, so she stopped.

"Let her go!" Mal yelled, whipping around and pointing his gun. He didn't have a clear shot. He couldn't shoot the man without risking hitting Natara, too; and he guessed the man knew that, given the smug smirk on his face.

"And why would I do that?" the man daunted, tightening his grip on Natara's wrists. She winced slightly and bit her lip. Mal tried to get a look at any of his visible features, but they were all covered in black clothing, except his eyes and mouth. His eyes were a deep, almost unnatural color of green.

"Let. Natara. Go." he said again sternly, narrowing his eyes and taking a step forward. The man pricked the tip of the knife into Natara's skin, drawing blood and making her flinch in pain.

"One more step forward, and your pretty little girlfriend here will have a really nice pool of blood around her dead body."

Mal scowled but took a step back, gun still drawn though he knew he couldn't do anything.

"Now," said the man, "I will admit; that was one _hell_ of a chase you two put on. But either way, you must pay. If you both cooperate with me, maybe I'll make your deaths quick." He laughed malevolently, twisting Natara's arm. She yelped slightly, clenching her teeth against the pain.

Mal vaguely wondered where the other two police officers were, before hastily glancing towards the door. They were crouched just outside the doorway, guns drawn. He sincerely hoped they had a cleaner shot than he himself did. The man's back was to the door, so he didn't notice Mal's eyes flick past him, ever so slightly and quickly.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Mal asked, rage suddenly filling him. He clenched the barrel of his gun, trying to control his anger.

"Wrong with _me_?" the man cooed in mock innocence, digging his fingernails into Natara's wrist. She struggled again, and managed to elbow him in the stomach. The man grunted, but kept his grip on Natara firm. "What on _earth_ are you talking about?"

Mal glanced over to the officers behind the man again, letting his eyes stray only for a split second. One of them was creeping up behind the guy; slowly, silently, with his gun drawn. The other was close behind him. The officer in the front motioned to Mal, indicating that he keep the guy busy. "Oh, don't be a moron," Mal growled at him, knowing he had to keep the man talking. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Targeting high school girls? Honestly? I'd be very interested to know what the hell your motive was."

"My motive?" he asked, once again mocking innocence.

"Cut the crap!" Mal barked, clicking a bullet into his gun's chamber.

"Well, if you'd really like to know," he teased slyly, grinning maliciously. The man momentarily released his death-grip on Natara's wrists, and she quickly rubbed them to ease the inflicted pain. He kept the knife pressed to her throat, though, as he whipped off his black ski mask, revealing his face. Mal gasped, and Natara glanced up, eyes widening as she saw who it was.

"D-Drew?" Natara said weakly, trembling slightly.

"That's right, _Tara_," Drew said complacently, emphasizing her nickname. He had always called her that in high school, and she had hated it. He knew that, of course, which is why he always badgered her with it.

"Don't call me that," Natara growled through clenched teeth.

"Don't call me that!" Drew mocked in a high-pitched voice, laughing crookedly. "Just like high school, huh? You haven't changed a bit."

"Leave her the hell alone," Mal seethed, boiling at Drew's ridicule towards Natara. "What the hell do you want, anyways?"

"Well, Mr. Detective, that's quite a long story." Drew seized Natara and whipped her around to face him, yanking her arms in front of her, still keeping the knife pressed firmly to her skin.

"We have time," Mal said, narrowing his eyes at Drew. He took a subtle step towards Natara, quickly eyeing the police officers who were still slowly approaching Drew. As far as Mal could tell, Drew was completely oblivious of their presence. He needed to keep Drew talking, for as long as possible. The linoleum floor beneath them produced a horrible echo when walked upon, so the officers were moving at a painstakingly slow-yet-necessary pace.

"In that case, Mr. Detective," Drew said, irritatingly slow, "I suppose I'll fill you in. I'm sure _Tara_ here," Drew mocked, briefly removing the knife from Natara's throat to jab her with the handle, "Already knows."

Natara glared daggers at him, anger and hatred burning intensely in her dark brown eyes. Mal sensed Drew had done or said something to her in high school, beyond just cheating and ridiculing; but now was not the time to pose inquiries on the subject. He'd ask Natara later... granted they got out of here alive.


	8. Chapter 8: Bethany

**Chapter Eight is here, guys! Just to let you guys know, I have volleyball try-outs this week, & they're 2-a-days, which really suck. I don't have a lot of time in the morning, & at night, I'm too tired/exhausted to write or function in general. xD So bear with me! C: Anyways, this chapter is a little shorter, but there's still a couple chapters left. C: & THANK YOU SO MUCH for almost 30 reviews! :D Enjoy this one!**

* * *

Chapter Eight - Bethany

"Yes," Mal said, glaring at Drew. "Please share."

"Well, you see, Detective," Drew said menacingly, lingering on the last word. "Back in high school, I was classified as the troublemaker-type. Correctly labeled, if I may add."

Mal rolled his eyes, suppressing a sigh.

"But as you could imagine, with the trouble-making reputation I had, I was not on particularly pleasant terms with the teachers. Nor were my grades lavishly high. However, this one," he said, pointing at Natara, "Was on quite good terms with the teachers, with grades through the roof, considering her academic inclination."

Natara was pretty sure that was the first time Drew had referred to her as 'academically inclined' rather than 'nerd' or 'geek'.

"Yes, you were quite liked by the teachers indeed. You and, oh, what was her name?" Drew mock-asked, pretending to think. Natara narrowed her eyes and hardened her glare, fighting to free her wrists from Drew's painfully-tight grasp. This grasp brought too many unwanted memories. He was too strong, though, and her attempts merely earned her a kick in the shin.

"Oh, right; now I remember. Bethany. Bethany Carter. You two were pretty good friends, huh?"

Natara seethed with anger at the mock-filled tone Drew used to refer to her friend. Bethany Carter had been her best friend in high school, who had been murdered several weeks after high school graduation. That event was what originally drove Natara to want to work for the FBI.

"Shut. The hell. Up," Natara muttered, fighting to hold Drew's icy stare.

Mal stood silently watching, wanting desperately to say something for Natara, but knowing his single movement could greatly endanger her life.

"As I was saying," Drew continued, ignoring Natara's rage, "You and Bethany were always on good terms with the teachers, and clearly were just the perfect students. Which, in high school, was something I was definitely not. All I was good at was getting a laugh out of my peers. So naturally, I envied you."

Natara looked him, failing to hide her surprise.

"Yes, Miss Williams; or should I say Miss Mansignh? Either way, yes, you heard me correctly; I was jealous. Thus produced my constant nagging and cheating and the like. As I'm sure you're aware of. I had always hated you and Bethany for your brains; especially since you were in a senior-level class as a sophomore, and doing better than I, at that. But now, Miss Williams, I have found that there are many different ways to be smart; this type of thing just happens to be my forte."

"And what does your '_forte'_ have to do with murdering innocent high school students?" Mal interrupted, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Ah, yes; those highschool-ers. You see, my younger brother goes to West Heights. He is much like I was in high school. Was, I should say."

"Was?" Mal narrowed his eyes in suspicion, awaiting an answer.

"Yes, was. Unfortunately, he's straightened out this year, and proved to be a great student. I tried to train him in my ways; to hate those that made me envious. He followed me for a while, but now, his senior year, he seems to be falling away. Before he completely turned his back on me, though, I managed to get the names of some of those type that I hated so much out of him. Needless to say, I believe you know what happens next."

"And where is your brother now?" Mal asked, hiding his curiosity with a hard expression.

"Oh, him?" Drew chimed nonchalantly. "Hell if I know. Or care, for that matter. Beat him senseless one night and haven't seen him since."

"What the _HELL_, Drew!" burst Natara, slamming her foot down on top of Drew's. He winced slightly, but tried to hide it with a menacing grin.

"And the black roses?" Mal questioned, again hiding his curiosity.

"Oh, I can't tell you everything, now can I, _Mr. Detective_? Let's just say it holds special meaning to me."

Just as Mal was about to say something else, one of the police officers behind Drew snuck up and whacked him in the back of the head with the barrel of his gun. Drew's grip on Natara loosened enough for her to duck away from the knife. He staggered before falling to the ground, knocked unconscious.

Mal immediately ran over to Natara, scooping her in a hug. She hugged him back, enjoying the comfort Mal's embrace brought.

"Are you okay?" he asked urgently, his voice full of concern.

"I'm... I'm fine," Natara said uneasily, "Just a bit shaken-up." She turned around to where the officers were hand-cuffing Drew and dragging him out of the room. They both thanked the officers profusely, walking outside and meeting the cold September air. They crossed the lawn and hopped in an awaiting squad car that took them back to the high school.


	9. Chapter 9: Opening Up

**Well, as exhausted as I am, I wanted to update anyways; so here is chapter nine. A bit long, but oh well. C: Now, I could end this story here, with this being the last chapter, & continue with a whole new plot & such on my next fanfic, or whatever I end up doing. Or I could write another chapter or two that explains more of Drew's motive. The choice is yours; review & let me know what you think. :D Also, THANKS SO MUCH for over 30 reviews! *happy dance* Anyways, enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Nine - Opening Up

Mal and Natara stiffly climbed out of the squad car, exhausted from the events of the day. Police officers still buzzed around, talking to people and writing things down. The girl who had screamed before was sent to the hospital, and would reportedly be alright after some stitches. She had been stabbed in the side, but the wound wasn't deep. Officer Mortenson stood talking to another officer, disbelief on his face after he was told that his assistant, Drew Bowden, was the murdrer.

An officer motioned Mal over to talk to him, so Natara retreated to the sidewalk, sitting down on the curb. She shivered against the cool breeze, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Some of the things that Drew had said had gotten to her, though she would never admit as much. She couldn't help the little stab of pain she felt whenever she thought of Bethany. She thought back to the things Drew had done and said to her years ago; those she had earlier told Mal about... And those she had shared with no one. She sighed and looked up at the dark sky, shivering and feeling utterly alone despite all of the people around her.

Mal, having finished his prior conversation, went and sat down by Natara.

"Are you alright?" he asked, gently touching her arm.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" She forced a fake, reassuring smile at him, hoping he wouldn't see through it. He did of course, but decided not to press the matter, for which Natara was extremely grateful. She didn't want to talk about this right now.

Sensing Natara's non-existent desire to converse, he simply slid his arm around her, pulling her close against the cold. She leaned into him, grateful for the silent comfort it brought her.

An officer walked over and told them they should go home and get some sleep, thanking them for their work. They thanked him and went back to Mal's car. He pulled a sweatshirt out from his backseat, tossing it to Natara before opening the car door for her. She smiled weakly, offering a tired 'thank you' as she slipped the sweatshirt on over her head.

As Mal drove Natara back to her apartment, she realized it was time she told someone. Mal was her best friend, and she knew he could be trusted. She needed this off her chest, anyways. As he pulled up to the complex, Natara turned to him.

"Mal?" she said softly, looking him directly in the eyes.

"Yes?" he asked, returning the gaze.

"Can I... talk to you about something?" she questioned timidly, motioning to the complex door.

"Of course," he replied, getting out of the car and following Natara up to her apartment. They sat on the couch facing each other, Natara still dawning Mal's sweatshirt. It hung loosely on her small frame, falling down past her hips.

"It's about Drew," Natara said quietly when they were situated. Mal nodded in response.

"You know when I told you that he cheated off of Bethany and I's papers a lot, or made fun of us and such?"

"Yeah," Mal replied, silently listening to what she had to say. She clambered over words for a few moments before continuing her story.

"Well, that wasn't all..."

* * *

_Natara Mansignh and Bethany Carter walked side-by-side, heading towards the exit of Briarwood High after a long, tiring day. They laughed and joked about anything that came to mind, trying to unwind a bit._

_As they passed the janitor's closet, a pair of hands reached out and gruffly grabbed them, yanking them in the closet. They yelped in surprise, dropping some of the papers they were holding. They glanced up to find that Drew Bowden, the senior who constantly picked on them, was the one who pulled them in. He locked the door behind them, blocking it with his body._

_"What the hell do you want?" Bethany scowled, shifting her backpack on her shoulder._

_"I want your answers, nerds," Drew sneered, taking a step towards them. "If you value your life, you'd hand them over."_

_"Forget it, Drew," Natara said coolly, taking a small step towards him. "We're not giving you our answers." She crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one hip, glaring at Drew. _

_Drew grabbed them both violently by the wrists, getting up in their faces._

_"Last chance," he muttered in a low voice, digging his fingernails into their arms. Natara and Bethany winced in pain, trying to pull back._

_"I said forget it," Natara repeated firmly, her heart beginning to race. "They're our answers, not yours."_

_"Alright then," he said simply, "Looks like we're doing this the hard way." He released his grip on their arms and whipped around, grabbing a broom. Before either girl knew what was happening, the handle of the broom had been swiftly jabbed into each of their solar plexus, causing them to stumble back, coughing in pain._

_"You gonna hand over the damn answers yet? Drew asked, threateningly waving the broom._

_"Not a chance!" Bethany coughed, glaring at Drew._

_He shrugged and grabbed Bethany by the wrist again, twisting her arm and kneeing her in the stomach. She cried out in pain and fell to the ground._

_"Hey!" Natara yelled, anger flooding her senses. "Lay off!"_

_"Oh," Drew mocked, "You want some, too?" He quickly grabbed Natara by the wrist, repeating what he had done to Bethany. Natara stumbled back but didn't fall, leaning over to help Bethany up. They stood side-by-side, breathing heavily._

_"Drew, knock it off!" Natara exclaimed, instinctively stepping in front of Bethany, who was a lot weaker than herself._

_"Oh, how cute," he droned, rolling his green eyes. "Tara is getting defensive over her weakling friend."_

_"Don't call me that, you dipstick!" Natara seethed, stepping towards him. "And don't you dare say that about Bethany." She vaguely heard Bethany squeak out a protest, but she ignored it, continuing to stare Drew down. _

_Drew laughed nonchalantly. "And just for that, you're gonna pay."_

_Drew lunged forward, knocking Natara off her feet, causing her to yelp in surprise. He dragged her up and pinned her to the wall, kneeing her in the stomach repeatedly. Natara coughed and gasped for air, letting out short cries of pain._

_"Drew! Stop!" Bethany pleaded, trying to step in between them. He released his grip on Natara, proceeding with the same actions on Bethany. When he released her, she fell to the floor crying._

_"How about now?" he jeered, still indicating the homework answers. "Or I'll beat you more."_

_Bethany started to refuse again, but Natara cut in; she couldn't watch Bethany get hurt anymore._

_"Fine, Drew. Take our damn answers and let us the hell out of here." She tossed the papers at him and tried to push past him to the door._

_"Not so fast, brace face!" Drew said, sticking his arm out to stop her. "Since you didn't cooperate originally, I'll be forced to harm you further. He turned and swiftly kicked Bethany in the stomach again. She slumped against the wall, gasping for air in between sobs._

_"Beth!" Natara cried, trying to run over to her. Drew grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, though, and yanked her back._

_"Your turn!" he chimed, shoving Natara against the wall. She struggled, but he pinned her there. She may have been stronger than Bethany, but Drew was still stronger. _

_"Aren't you a pretty one," Drew cooed, staring into her deep brown eyes. "I think I'll have some fun with you first." He smirked wildly, reaching down with one hand and grabbing her butt._

_"Hey!" Natara shrieked, lashing out. Bethany still sat in the corner, shaking and trying to catch her breath._

_Drew ignored her enraged protest, pushing her to the floor and easily pinning her down again. He groped all over her, as she tried to counteract him, tears beginning to fall from her eyes. Bethany tried to intervene, smacking Drew and yelling for him to stop. This only earned her a quick punch in the stomach, sending her back to the ground._

_"Drew, stop! Stop!" Natara shrieked, fighting to get out from under him. He responded by pulling her hair before sliding his hand under her shirt again._

_Bethany tried multiple times to get Drew off Natara, but each time earned herself a blow which sent her back to the floor._

_Just as Drew was beginning to tug at the zipper of Natara's jeans, his phone buzzed in his pocket, reveaing a text from his mom. He had to go now. Drew released Natara and she sprang up, tears still streaming down her face as she fought to control her breathing._

_"What the hell, Drew? I hate you!" she shrieked, trying to jump up and tackle Drew. "You little mother-" He effortlessly pushed her back down, sending her sprawling to the floor beside Bethany. She didn't even bother to drag herself up this time. _

_Drew turned to go, reaching for the door handle._

_"Oh," he added, turning and staring them down with a glare that could melt the Arctic. "And if you're really as smart as you seem, neither of you will tell anyone about any of this; or I'll get you again, but worse." With that, he grabbed the papers, opened the door and left, briefly glancing back to smirk at them. He slammed it behind him, leaving Natara and Bethany bawling on the floor._

* * *

Mal stared at Natara in disbelief, searching for words.

"So you're telling me he... You know..."

"No, not... Not that far. But he would have if his phone wouldn't have gone off..."

"That bastard!" Mal exclaimed, clenching his fists. "Nat, I know this probably doesn't help, but I'm so sorry..." Mal said, his voice softening. She nodded, fighting back tears. He pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her. She collapsed against him, sliding her arms around him and struggling to control her breathing. He stroked her hair comfortingly, breathing in the gentle scent of her perfume.

"I... I haven't told anybody," she whispered after pulling back. She looked up into Mal's gentle eyes, finding comfort in their ocean-blue depths.

"It's okay," Mal replied softly, taking her hand and gently rubbing her palm with his thumb. "He can't hurt you anymore. I'll protect you." Natara nodded, suddenly feeling safe in Mal's presence.

"Thanks, Mal," she whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder. He slid his arm around her, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.

The prior feelings of being alone vanished as she felt Mal's arm around her. It might be silly, but Mal gave her those stupid teenage-girl butterflies. She felt completely safe with him, and fully trusted that he really _would_ protect her.


	10. Chapter 10: White Roses

**Well, you guys asked for it, so here is an epilogue-type thing. It was getting too long, so I'm splitting it up into two; so there will be one more chapter after this one. C: Please let me know what you think, & thanks again for all the reviews! Also, I have quite a few things on an upcoming works list that I'd like to start on. If you have any suggestions as to which I should do first, let me know. I'll be doing 13 Reasons Why fanfics/one-shots as well; if you haven't read that book, I highly recommend it. It's a bit depressing, but it's an amazing book. ANYWAYS, thanks so much, guys, & enjoy! :D**

* * *

Chapter Ten - White Roses

Drew Bowden sat on the small cot inside of his musty San Francisco jail cell, dressed in the notorious orange prison garments. The air was dank and humid, and the only source of outside light came from a narrow window near the ceiling of the cell. Though there was literally no chance that anyone could escape through such a small space, it was barred regardless. A meager table connected to the wall sat by his cot, and a white, flimsy plastic chair sat underneath it. On the opposite wall, a scanty toilet was shoved into a corner, with a small, omni-dripping sink next to it. The cot he sat on was draped with a thin, threadbare blanket and a somewhat-stiff pillow. The chipped walls had definitely seen their better days, and the floor tiles were dirty and worn from many years of prisoners. His conditions were nowhere near pleasant or endearing, but it could certainly be worse; and this was a jail cell, for crying out loud; they were certainly not designed to be enjoyable.

Considering he would be in this cell for quite some time, Drew was left with a lot of time to think. Did he regret what he did? Did he have any guilty conscience over his murderous actions that took the lives of six, almost seven girls? Was he at all remorseful for what he had said and done to Natara and Bethany years ago? Drew was unsure. It might seem like a silly thing to be unsure about, but if he was honest (for once), he really wasn't positive about anything anymore. Sure, he wished he weren't confined to a prison cell for the next 20-some years of his life, but that was the price for his revenge, he supposed; and revenge felt so, _so_good.

Revenge for what, you may ask? Well, that was quite the lengthy story; one that Drew tried to avoid thinking about. But seeing as he would have a lot of time to himself, there was nothing really stopping the countless number of thoughts that flew around inside his head. He couldn't help memories of the past that came flooding in.

He thought of his parents, Greg and Linda Bowden. Growing up, one could say Drew had the perfect family; his parents were happily married, they lived in a nice house, Drew and his siblings got good grades, and they had plenty of friends. All-in-all, things were looking pretty good for the Bowden family. They even had a "family place". Every year on Labor Day weekend, right before school would start, they would take a family camping trip to their special place.

This "special family place" was found by pure accident, in fact. If it weren't for the poor navigation and pride of Greg Bowden, it might not have been found at all.

* * *

_"Where are we?" whined 10-year-old Drew from the back seat of the family's van. "We've been driving forever!"_

_"We're lost, aren't we," Drew's 14-year-old sister Scarlett muttered, in a tone that was more like stating a fact than asking an answerable question._

_"Of course we're not lost!" Greg Bowden boomed proudly, glancing down at the map in his lap. "We're almost there!" Linda Bowden rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. Despite Greg's navigational protests, they were essentially in the middle of nowhere._

_"Wake me up when we get there," she murmered tiredly._

_"You said this campsite was a half an hour away; we've been driving for an hour!" Scarlett complained, sighing dramatically._

_"Hold your horses," Greg replied, turning onto a dirt road. The car bumped up and down on the gravel road, causing Linda to open her eyes._

_"Greg, there weren't supposed to be any gravel roads. I think we should go back to town and ask for directions."_

_"Nonsense! Just give me a minute..."_

_Linda sighed and rolled her eyes again, glancing at the kids in the backseat. Drew sat anxiously peering at the unfamiliar surroundings, while Scarlett impatiently drummed her fingers on the arm rest, wanting desperately to stand up and stretch her stiff muscles._

_Greg pulled the car over into a patch of matted-down grass, draping the map over the steering wheel. He turned slightly to face the kids._

_"You two can stand up and stretch, but don't wander too far."_

_Linda stood and followed an eager Drew and Scarlett out of the car and down into a small ravine. Scarlett wandered ahead while Drew and Linda sauntered behind, stretching their limbs. Scarlett disappeared out of sight, ad Linda hurried to catch up. She heard Scarlett gasp in delight from behind several trees in front of her._

_"Scarlett," she warned, "Stay where I can see you!"_

_"Mom!" came Scarlett's excited voice from several yards away, "Come here!"_

_Linda sighed and reluctantly weaved through the bushes and logs to where her daughter stood. She gasped when she saw what Scarlett stood in front of._

_A large thicket of trees opened up into a lush, green clearing. Trees loomed overhead to form a canopy, and the warm July sunlight seeped through the thick foliage to produce almost-heavenly-like beams of light. A small river flowed gracefully through the middle of the clearing, starting from farther than they could see, and ending in a sparkling pond about 20 feet to their left. Small fish swam around within the ponds shallow depths; their scales reflecting the colors of the sun as they swam to-and-fro. White rose bushes grew all over the clearing, as well as other plant-life and greenery that was strewn about. A couple of large rocks near the edge of the clearing provided a nice flat space that would be perfect for a picnic lunch. Birds flew carelessly through the sky, gracing the air with their harmonious melodies. To sum it all up, this place was beautiful; a corner of the universe completely untouched by the outside world. It was completely nature's own space._

_"Wow," was all Linda could utter as she silently took in the beautiful surroundings. "This place... Is indescribably gorgeous."_

_"I know," Scarlett breathed, awestruck at the way the sun reflected rainbows across the shimmering pond._

_Drew ran up behind them, but stopped short when he saw what his mother and sister were staring at._

_"Whoa!" he exclaimed, running up beside his mom. "What is this place?"_

_"I have no idea," Linda replied, looking down at Drew, "But I don't think we need to keep looking for a campsite."_

_Greg Bowden walked down into the ravine as well, and noted their surroundings with great surprise. _

_"Wow! How about we camp here, since I can't find the other place?"_

_"Yay!" Drew declared excitedly, running over to peer into the pond; Scarlett eagerly followed behind. _

_Linda Bowden walked over to a thicket of rose bushes that grew a little ways away from the beaming river. She bent down to inspect them, gently taking one between her fingers. They were white roses; her favorite kind. She didn't know why she liked them so much, but she did. Maybe it was because they were white and pure like snow; pure like a new beginning and a clean slate. Maybe to her, it represented second chances, and starting anew. Whatever her uncertain reasons were for her fondness towards them, they did have some form of a special meaning to her. It was a personal meaning that she wouldn't be able to describe to anyone else, really._

_Linda was snapped out of her white-rose-daze by Scarlett prodding her in the arm. _

_"Mom, can we eat now?" Scarlett asked hungrily, motioning towards the car full of food. _

_"Yeah, we're starving!" Drew added, emphasizing the word 'starving'. _

_Linda laughed and glanced over at Greg, who was pulling the cooler out of the trunk. _

_"Go ahead, I'll be right there!" Scarlett and Drew scampered off, pulling blankets from the backseat and draping them over the surface of the large, flat rocks at the end of the clearing. A gentle, end-of-summer breeze blew lazily through the air, providing an almost perfect temperature. Linda looked down again at the white rose head resting gingerly in between her fingers. She knew then and there that this beautiful place and the pure white roses would always have special meaning to her; they would always stand for the unity between family members, and the promise of a second chance._


	11. Chapter 11: Downhill Death

**Hello again, everyone. C: Long author's note, sorry; I just have a lot to say this time. xD So, I lied about the "last chapter" talk, considering I could not stop writing, & this supposed "last chapter" ended up as over 4,000 words. Once again, I am splitting it in two. This one is still pretty long, but I don't even care. xD Hopefully you like seeing things a little more from Drew's POV, though. I prefer writing in the third person, as I like to get into multiple character's minds; but I wanted this epilogue-type-thing to be Drew's thoughts, so you get the history first-hand, over Mal & Natara somehow finding it out. The major thing is that it wouldn't of had as much depth coming from Mal or Natara as it would from Drew. **

**Also, there are a lot of things in this chapter that justify the 'T' rating; though I didn't exactly know what direction this would take when I first started, I knew I had some dark plans. The 'T' rating for this chapter is minor language, mentions of suicide, mentions of child abuse/drug abuse, and violent tendencies. I don't believe it's triggering, as I tried for as little detail as I could at those points, to avoid just that. Read by your own discretion; and don't say I didn't warn you. xD Anyways, there will be one more chapter after this one; but for now, enjoy! C:**

* * *

Chapter Eleven - Downhill Death

The loud clanging of metal bars abruptly snapped Drew out of his flashback. A tall, muscular man held a set of dangling keys, and was unlocking the gate to his cell.

"You have 45 minutes outside for lunch; and don't try anything funny, or it'll be me after you," the man warned.

Drew nodded in comply, and followed the man out of his cell. Several other equally-as-large men stood outside the surrounding cells, rounding up other prisoners and offering the same threats as punishment for misconduct. They followed the guards through the cell block and out a heavy metal door to the heavily-guarded lawn behind the prison. It was a semi-large space; enough for about 20-25 prisoners to fit comfortably inside. They had to be taken outside in shifts, for more reasons than one. A very tall, very high-voltage electric fence enclosed them, humming threateningly. Despite the electrified fence, a muscular guard stood with his arms crossed every 10 feet or so, completely eliminating any chance of anybody escaping. The single door they exited out of was guarded by two more strong-looking men; their arms were also crossed defensively over their chests. They looked somewhere off into the distance with hard eyes.

Drew stepped out onto the lawn and accepted the brown paper lunch bag offered to him, mumbling a quick 'thanks'. He quickly glanced around at prisoners who were forming into small groups and walking off to eat. He abruptly decided he didn't really want to be sociable, so he hurried to a corner under a small maple tree. He sat down underneath it and leaned against the trunk, silently pulling a turkey sandwich, apple, bottled water, and a packaged brownie-type thing from the lunch sack. He opened the baggie with the sandwich and took a bite, glancing up at the sky. It was partly-cloudy, but a few beams of sun peaked through the clouds. It reminded him of a certain day, about three years after the find of their family place. He was 13, and his sister had just turned 17.

* * *

_Greg and Linda Bowden had just returned from the doctor's office. They sat at the kitchen table, talking in quiet tones. They had bad news to tell Scarlett, Drew, and Noah; but they didn't know how to tell it. __Rain quietly drummed off the roof, ironically completing the mood they were about to set. _

_"Scarlett! Drew!" Greg called, standing from the chair and walking to the base of the staircase._

_"Yeah?" Scarlett yelled back, turning down her radio._

_"Can you and Drew come down here for a few minutes? Your mother and I... Have something to tell you." They would tell Noah, too, but they wanted to tell him separately. Noah had only just turned 9, and he wouldn't understand everything yet; of course, nobody really understood everything; but Scarlett and Drew would understand more of what would be... happening in the near future. Yes, they would tell Noah shortly._

_Scarlett noted the seriousness of her father's tone, and quickly complied, shoving her AP Calculus book to the side and grabbing Drew on her way down._

_"Coming!" she called back nonchalantly. Her and Drew walked into the kitchen to meet the serious faces of their parents. There was something else in their gaze, too... Fear? Scarlett quickly concluded that no, it could not be fear. Of course not, everything was fine! She settled on the idea that the subject matter was probably something about their grades, trying to ignore the fact that both her and Drew's grades were fine._

_She glanced over at Drew to see if he picked up the potential fear in their parents gaze as well; and from the way he fiddled with his fingers, she guessed he had._

_"I, uh... What's up?" Drew asked cautiously, glancing up at his parents. Scarlett glanced up, too, briefly meeting her father's almost-unreadable gaze. He motioned for them to sit down, and they quickly obeyed, taking seats next to each other. Their parents sat side-by-side across from them, holding each other's hand. On the table in front of them lay a series of papers, with medical terms unknown to Scarlett or Drew._

_"Is, um, everything okay?" Scarlett inquired nervously, twisting a strand of her golden-blonde hair around her finger._

_"Your mother and I just got back from the doctor's office," Greg began, speaking for them both, "And the results for your mother were... well, they weren't good."_

_"So... What... Were the results?" Scarlett asked, biting her lip nervously. Drew looked down at his lap, suddenly very interested in the seam of his jeans._

_"Your mother has stage-four breast cancer."_

_Both Scarlett and Drew's heads snapped up in shock as dread began to fill them. Though neither of them paid much attention to the medical world, they knew what that diagnosis meant; they knew what was probably inevitable, though they quickly pushed the looming thoughts away._

_"Is it... Can they cure it?" Scarlett stammered, feeling a lump begin to rise in her throat._

_Linda spoke up nervously, wishing she didn't have to relay this information._

_"Radiation, chemotherapy, or both will be tried, but... It's invasive, meaning it has spread and will keep spreading. It's also HER2-positive, which basically means it's very aggressive. There are medications and such for that, which we can try, too..."_

_She quickly glanced down at the papers, hoping Scarlett and Drew were oblivious to the medical terms printed all over the papers. Several things were bolded, including 'T4 N3 M1', 'invasive', and 'distant'. Such a series of terms had meant little-to-nothing to her less than a few hours ago; now it felt like a death-sentence. All of those terms essentially spelled out how serious this disease was. They all stated that the cancer was large, it had spread into the lymph nodes and surrounding parts of the body, and it would continue to spread until it, well... Killed her. Of course she would fight it; she would fight as hard as she could. Deep down, though, she knew her fate; but that didn't mean she wouldn't go down without a fight._

_"How... How long...?" Scarlett tried to stammer out the question that was burning both her and Drew's minds, but the lump in her throat grew, silencing her._

_"They gave me about 6 months," Linda answered softly. Scarlett hadn't finished the question, but Linda knew what was being asked._

_6 months. It was currently early October, which gave them until about March. This realization struck them both at the same time. The tears that were brimming Scarlett's green eyes began to spill over, and she quickly got up and ran back up the stairs to her room. Linda wanted to stop her, but she knew Scarlett needed time to herself; this would be hard on everyone. Drew quietly excused himself, turning to go up the stairs after his sister._

_Scarlett ran into her room, not even bothering to close the door. She flopped down onto her bed, hot tears streaming down her face. She cried into her pillow, not caring that her mascara and eyeliner were ruining the white pillow case. Drew fought back tears of his own as he slowly walked into Scarlett's room, sitting down beside her. She sat up when she saw him, still suppressing sobs. She slid an arm around her brother, and Drew allowed a few tears to escape his own eyes._

_"I... I want to go... To our family place once... Once more with mom," Drew choked, emotion over-taking him._

_Scarlett just nodded in response, pulling her arm back and putting her face in her hands, allowing herself to lose control for a few minutes as reality struck: a year from now, their mother would not be here._

* * *

Drew sighed at the painful memory, as small pricks of pain stabbed at him. Pain was what always transferred to anger. Pain was what drove him to murder. Pain took the wheel, allowing no space for any reason or thought.

He set his sandwich down, suddenly losing his appetite. He cracked open the bottled water, taking a long sip before allowing his thoughts to drift again.

Ever since that day, everything in Drew's life seemed to go on a downhill slope. His mother had held on for longer than clinically expected; she fought hard for 8 months, but the cancer eventually over-took her in mid-May. His only small consolation was that she died in her sleep; at peace and free of the pain and worry of her illness. Drew had only just turned 14 when she died; and as if losing his mother wasn't hard enough, he lost his sister, too. Scarlett.

* * *

_They had all become depressed to some extent after Linda's death, but Scarlett had it the worst. She quit all the sports she played and the clubs she had joined; her grades dropped from straight-A's to C's and D's, and she lost most of her friends from being excessively crabby and unfriendly. She often locked herself in her room after school, blasting music and eventually crying herself to sleep. Eventually, she felt like she couldn't take it anymore; she ended her own life. She stole one of the long, sharp knives from the kitchen, shoving it under her mattress until everyone had gone to sleep. She scrawled a quick note onto a piece of notebook paper, pausing every now-and-then as she struggled with what to say._

_Dad and Drew,_

_I'm so sorry. I just can't take this anymore; it just hurts too bad. Please don't blame yourselves; it wasn't your fault. My mind was made up, and you couldn't have said or done anything to change it. It was my decision. And don't worry about me; I'll be with mom. I love you both so much, though. Please don't forget that._

_I love you and I'm sorry._

_Love, Scarlett_

_Fresh tears blurred her vision as she folded the piece of paper and propped it up on her freshly-made bed, completely in clean-sight. She took the knife and hid away in the bathroom, filling the bathtub with hot water and slicing deep into her skin until her life faded away and she closed her eyes for the last time._

* * *

In a matter of months, he had lost his mother, his sister, and in a sense, his father, too. His father was not dead, but what he turned into was almost worse. There were countless times where Drew wished his father were dead, too. After Linda died and Scarlett took her life, Greg was almost always at the bar or drinking somewhere. He pretty much dried up most of their excess funds on liquor and drugs, and they eventually had to move to a small apartment. Greg would often come home drunk and take his anger and pain out on Drew. So many scrapes and bruises were inflicted on him by his drunk father, that he soon lost count. When Greg wasn't drunk, he'd be passed out on the couch; and when he awoke, Drew would hide and watch what was left of his father stumble off to another bar again. Drew would often run off and stay at a friend's house for days on end; anything to get away from his father and the hell that was supposedly his 'home'. Once Drew got his license, he would frequently take his mother's car and drive around aimlessly, avoiding going home at all costs. When the glorious age of 18 finally arrived, he took his first opportunity to get out once and for all. He moved across the city and took what was left in his bank account with him. If he had owned the funds, he would have moved across the country; unfortunately, he couldn't afford such things.

Drew took another swig of water and thought about the last time he had gone to the family's special place. He wanted to go there and reminisce and live in the past. He wanted desperately to hang onto the last bit of his whole family he had left.

* * *

_Drew walked through the familiar forest, hoping it wouldn't rain. The skies were dark despite it being close to noon, and the wind carried that certain before-a-storm chill. The cool air smelt vaguely like smoke and charred wood, but Drew was too lost in thought to take much note of it. As he descended down into the narrow ravine he pushed past the over-grown weeds and vines, expecting to be welcomed by the beautiful river and white rose bushes and pretty melodies of the birds. What greeted his shocked eyes, though, was far from the beautiful scene that had so often welcomed him growing up. The large, flat rocks at the edge of what was left of the clearing looked the same, but that's about where the resemblence of the memories from his childhpod stopped._

_The once-clear, sparkling river was now polluted with black, charred wood. In fact, such a large quantity of the fire-engulfed remains were left, that the river ran almost black. Dead fish and singed plant life also floated near the surface with nowhere to go, seeing as the river was blocked in several spots by fallen trees and charred build-up._

_The grass, which had once been green and lush, was scorched badly; the remains were yellow or brown. The ground was strewn with burnt debris; some of which still smelled faintly like smoke. Most of the trees were, as a generous term, at least singed. The leaves that had once been green and healthy were dried and curling in on themselves, slowly dropping to the baked ground beneath. No birds were in the air, and an eerie silence was all that followed. Drew didn't think silence could be this loud._

_He let his eyes wander around, willing himself to not look at the rose bushes. He eventually stole a glance, and what he saw nearly stopped his heart. The bushes were darkened and dried out, and several branches were already dead, fallen to the ground in defeat. The roses themselves were nearly black, both from the polluted water and being parched by flame. The pure, beautiful white roses that his mother had loved so much were gone, only to be crudely replaced by blackened remains and dried-out leaves. He slowly walked over and touched one. Even his gently, careful touch dislodged the rose from its precarious position on the remains of the bush. It twirled to the ground and rested at his feet, threatening to crumble into a million pieces at even the slightest breeze._

_Drew slowly turned and surveyed the once-lovely area with shock and horror. The horror quickly turned to anger, which just as abruptly turned to pain. The last remaining tie to him and all the wonderful memories of their entire family... was gone._

_Suddenly, all of his built-up pain and anger from the last few years exploded to life. His sheer-yet-well-hidden jealousy of Natara and Bethany, his mother's terrible illness and death, Scarlett's suicide, his father's drunk and abusive tendencies, his constant feelings of inadequacy, and other things he hadn't even realized he had kept inside; they all came rushing out in a series of angry tears and actions. He let out an enraged yell and picked up a large rock, chucking it at a nearby tree. Furiously, he turned and stormed away from the place, back to his car. He got in and slammed the door, and forcefully collided his foot with the gas pedal. He careened out of the forest and back to his shabby apartment, knowing what he would do. He would most likely regret it later, and it would definitely earn him some prison time if he were caught; but at the moment, he didn't give a single damn. He knew what he was going to do, and he would make sure it would happen._


	12. Chapter 12: Forgiveness

***extremely long A/N warning again - sorry!* Well, guys, here it is at last: the last chapter of this fanfic. & I'm legitimately serious this time; I am done writing this one. A slight end-of-plot twist, but I think you'll like it. It's partially because I hate ending a story with so many negative feelings. xD & thank you guys SO FREAKING MUCH for nearly 40 reviews; I appreciate them so much, & I would love some feedback after you finish the whole thing. Anyways, thank you so much to all of you who have been with me this whole story, & have left nice reviews; you're all wonderful. C: I would also love to hear how you liked the ending; it definitely took some thought. I'm admittedly a bit sad to end this story; I loved writing it. *le sad sigh* Anywho, I hope you enjoyed reading this fanfic as much as I enjoyed writing it, and keep an eye out for some other things coming soon. *cough* Maltara *cough* C:**

**ALSO, I would like you guys to vote on something: should I write another CoD one-shot first, or start a 13 Reasons Why fanfic? I'm not sure if you guys know what that is, but I think you'll like it. It's an amazing book; you should all read it. But I think the fanfic will mostly make sense without a prior read of the book (though you should read it!).**

**Note: In regards to a question in a review I received, on whether Drew killed Bethany or not... No; for the purposes of this story, I feel like that wouldn't make a ton of sense. If she was killed in/right after high school, that would have been over 10 years ago, & he more than likely would have been in prison already for that. But great question; it got me thinking. C:**

***extremely long A/N over***

* * *

Chapter Twelve - Forgiveness

"Back inside!"

Drew was once again snapped out of his thoughts by the gruff voice of one of the guards, beckoning them all indoors again. He pulled himself up and tossed his half-eaten lunch in the trash, finishing off the bottle of water in one long sip. He trudged back inside and blinked to force his eyes to get used to the dim lighting. He was led roughly back to his cell, and the same man who had come to get him locked him back in, grunting as he walked on to the next cell with another prisoner.

Drew returned to his previous spot on the creaky cot, leaning against the chipped wall as he let out a deep sigh. He suddenly began to realize things just then; things he probably wouldn't have realized if he weren't currently confined to a jail cell for a good remainder of his life.

He realized that he really was sorry. He was sorry he didn't try harder in school. He was sorry he hadn't treasured the time with his mom and sister more. He was sorry he couldn't stop his sister from taking her life. He was sorry for trying so hard to please his father. He was sorry he had treated Natara and Bethany so poorly. He was sorry for their special place, and whatever happened to it. He was sorry his younger brother, Noah, hadn't gotten to see their place as much, as he was a little young for camping the first few times they went. He was _especially_ sorry for trying to manipulate Noah. He was even sorry he had taken the lives of six girls. He had done all of this out of either jealousy, anger, pain, or a combination of the three; and those made for a very deadly outcome, in a very literal sense.

What in the _hell_ had he done? He had let his anger lead the way to ultimately claim the lives of six young, innocent girls who had done nothing to him. He let his fury and hate and pain build up and combine together to become monstrous, and he had let it drive him to do terrible things; and that was something he would never, ever be able to forgive himself for. One thing he really wished he could do, though, was apologize to Natara. Not any of that half-hearted, automated crap-apology he had given earlier; no, he genuinely wanted to apologize for, well, being a complete asshat and taking so many things out on her and Bethany. He would more-likely-than-not never be given that opportunity, but he really, truly was sorry.

"Visitor,"

As if on some miraculous cue, a guard approached and unlocked his cell, handcuffing him and leading him to the visiting area. There, standing before him with her arms crossed and looking generally very awkward and uncomfortable, was Natara Williams. Although they were separated by a thick wall of glass, he could read an unsure expression in her deep brown eyes.

"I... You... Why..." Drew stammered, becoming increasingly confused and flustered by each passing moment.

"You're probably wondering why in the world I'm visiting you, after you put me through hell and back multiple times, right?" She didn't wait for a response, but instead continued on, shifting her weight uncomfortably. "And to be honest, I have no idea why. I really don't. I just felt like... Like I should." Her voice grew a bit softer, and she looked away awkwardly, playing with a loose string on her shirt.

"Actually," Drew started nervously, briefly looking away, "I... I've been wanting to... Apologize."

Natara's head snapped up at the word, and she narrowed her eyes slightly as she remembered the last time Drew had 'apologized'.

"I know, I know," Drew muttered, guessing what she was thinking. "Just... Please hear me out, alright?"

Natara nodded and crossed her arms over her chest almost defensively. Her defensiveness unnerved Drew a bit, but he completely understood why she had her guard up so high.

"Natara, I... I just wanted to say that I'm sorry; I really, truly mean it this time. I have been nothing but a complete dipstick to you ever since high school. But I've had a lot of time to think lately and... I've begun to realize some things. I had so many things go completely wrong, and circumstances just generally went downhill after... Well, long story short... My mom died, my sister took her life, my dad became abusive, and... A place that held a lot of sentimetal memories was... Well, it is no longer. And I really just took out all of my anger and pain on people around me... Including you and Bethany."

A small stab of pain hit Natara at the mention of her friend's name, but she ignored it.

"And I know full-well that my past is not an excuse at all, and I'm not trying to manipulate you anymore. I just want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being a complete jerk to you, and I'm sorry for everything I said and... And did. You didn't deserve any of the things I said or did to you; and if I could take it back... I would. I was jealous of you and Bethany, and I had too much other junk bottled up, that I guess... I guess I just flipped. And I screwed up. I really screwed literally everything up, to hell and back several times over. I don't know what the hell got into me, but I hate that I did those things; and if it's any consolation, I will never be able to forgive myself for all the stupid things I've done, both to you and everyone else. I don't honestly expect you to forgive me, or even trust me, after everything I've put you through. You have every single right imaginable to hate my guts. Hell, even I hate myself right now. But I guess... I guess I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm just really damn sorry."

Drew hadn't realized it, but remorseful tears had begun to pour steadily down his dirty face as he apologized/ranted. He stood and turned to go, figuring Natara would want to get the hell out of here and away from him.

"Drew."

Natara's soft voice stopped him and he slowly turned around, frustratedly wiping the tears off his face with the back of his hand.

"It's... It's okay. I... Forgive you. And I'm sorry, too... About your family."

She wasn't sure why, but the combination of Drew's stuttered-yet-heartfelt apology and the tears of regret, made Natara know that he was telling the truth. Something in his eyes that she had never seen before was present: guilt. Most people, if put in her situation, would have happily taken the countless reasons to hate Drew and leave without acceptance of his apology; and if she were honest, that's what she had wanted to do at first. But now, there was something inside of her that wanted to forgive him; _needed_ to forgive him, even. Although the mis-treatment back in high school hurt, both physically and emotionally, and although he really had put her through hell and back on multiple encounters... She knew what she wanted to do.

"Wait, what?" Drew asked, completely shocked at what he had just heard. "Why... After all the... I..."

"All those things you said and did to me back in high school hurt; and not just physically. Do you know how useless and powerless you made Bethany and I feel, so many times over? And being held at knife-point for a half an hour wasn't particularly the time of my life, either."

Drew looked away and bit his lip.

"But even through all of those things... I want to forgive you. I need to forgive you; and not just because it's 'the right thing to do', or whatever. I need to let go of all of those things of the past, and accept it as just that... the past. Nothing will reverse those feelings or the lives you took; but it's in the past, and there's nothing anyone can do about it. And even though I want to hate you... I can't. Yes, you screwed up big-time; yes, you hurt me and so many other people... but something tells me you've learned your lesson. No, that does not make murder alright, by any means, but... That's a whole different, legal topic. What I'm saying... Is that I forgive you." She looked up at him and met his eyes, giving him a small smile. He met her gaze as well, and returned the slight smile, not even bothering to wipe away the tears that were now streaming down his face. He slowly walked back to the glass separating them. Natara stood facing him still, but her arms were no longer crossed. She still held the small smile on her lips, showing that she had genuinely forgiven him.

"Thank you," Drew whispered, almost too quiet to hear. "I... Thank you. You... didn't have to do that. You're a great girl, Natara." He offered her a small smile again.

Natara nodded in acknowledgement and smiled fully. "You're not so terrible yourself, Drew," she replied. She wasn't talking about the murders, considering an apology did not excuse six murders, by any means; no, she was referring to how much he'd changed. He had learned his lesson, as well as many more; and for the first time, she finally felt free from the hypothetical cage of poor high school memories. Ultimately, though, she felt good; despite prior hurt feelings, she felt good. She knew she had done the right thing, in forgiving him. Not only did she set Drew free, in a sense, but she also set herself free.

Drew met her gaze once more before turning and walking out the door. He walked back to his cell, feeling lighter, as if a giant weight had been taken from him; and in a metaphorical sense, it had. He began to realize, that if Natara could forgive him after everything he'd done to her... Maybe, just maybe... He could begin to forgive himself. It would be a long process, but he already felt the slightest bit of progress. Forgiveness was a powerful thing.


End file.
